


The way to a witch's heart

by Nary



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Baking, Contests, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Food, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, so much food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 11:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: Tina had said maybe it would be easier for Queenie to make a clean break.  After all, Jacob had what he'd always dreamed of - his own bakery, a successful business - and she knew he was happy.  That ought to have been enough.  Going back to see him again (and again, and again) was only going to cause problems.  But Queenie couldn't help herself.  He was the kindest, sweetest man she'd ever met, even if he was a No-Maj, and she missed him with an ache that she hadn't known was possible.  All the creampuffs shaped like Nifflers in the world couldn't fill the emptiness she felt.





	The way to a witch's heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [etoilecourageuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilecourageuse/gifts).



"Good morning, Miss Goldstein, I'll be right with you!" Jacob's shop was, as usual, full of customers eager to buy his latest creations, but he always took a moment to greet Queenie when she came in, no matter how busy he was. He was like that with all his regulars, though, not just her. She had become a repeat customer, stopping in once a day on her way home from work to pick up a loaf of bread or some pastries shaped like magical beasts. Sometimes twice a day on weekends, if she was honest with herself. If things went on like this she was going to need to buy a girdle to keep fitting into her wardrobe! At least the walk from the brownstone she shared with her sister to Kowalski Quality Baked Goods and back again was good exercise. 

Part of her knew it was a bad idea, and not because of the effect it had on her waistline. Jacob didn't remember anything that had happened when Newt Scamander had been in the city, or anything about the existence of magic. He didn't remember Queenie from before the day she'd appeared in his shop and smiled at him. Or at least, he didn't remember _much_ \- once in awhile, something would trigger a vague memory, but so far nothing that he couldn't brush aside as his imagination, or a half-remembered dream. Queenie was sure she would have known if he'd remembered anything more. 

Tina had said maybe it would be easier for Queenie to make a clean break. After all, Jacob had what he'd always dreamed of - his own bakery, a successful business - and she knew he was happy. That ought to have been enough. Going back to see him again (and again, and again) was only going to cause problems. But Queenie couldn't help herself. He was the kindest, sweetest man she'd ever met, even if he was a No-Maj, and she missed him with an ache that she hadn't known was possible. All the creampuffs shaped like Nifflers in the world couldn't fill the emptiness she felt. 

So she kept going back, even if it was only as a customer, just to have the chance to see him for a few minutes each day and know he was doing all right. And because Jacob was a good businessman, he started to recognize her when she came into the shop, and learned her name, and remembered that she liked peaches but not apricots, and almonds but not marzipan. Queenie could tell there was more to his attention than just the ordinary attention he'd pay to any good customer - she was a Legilimens after all, she knew what he thought about her - but she tried not to encourage those feelings. 

For months she kept things perfectly polite and businesslike. She had a lot of practice at not encouraging men, after all, and she didn't want to accidentally lead him on. But if the shop wasn't too busy, they'd talk for a few minutes about things other than her order - harmless topics like the weather, the Yankees, and whether they were really ever going to build that subway line out to Jersey. Gradually Queenie found herself picking times to visit when she knew it wouldn't be so busy, so that they'd have a little longer to chat before Jacob had to get back to work. Each day it hurt when she had to leave, but she couldn't stop herself from visiting the shop either. Seeing his face light up when she strolled through the door was like a habit she couldn't quite bring herself to kick.

"I put some cinnamon rugelach aside for you - I know you like 'em and they were going fast this morning," he said to her once the crowd had thinned out and they were, at least for a moment, alone in the front of the bakery together. He dusted his hands off on his apron and started putting together her box of goodies.

"Thanks, that's sweet of you," she said. The rugelach had little wings sticking out of them, making them look more than a bit like Occamies, she couldn't help but notice. Sometimes she thought maybe Jacob remembered a little more than he was supposed to - just the odd hint here and there. 

It went beyond his pastry creations, too. For instance, the sky was overcast and heavy with clouds today, and as he assembled Queenie's order, there was a crack of thunder and it suddenly started to pour rain. He glanced out the window, then back at her. "I hope you didn't forget your umbrella, you're going to get soaked." Something about the wistful way he said it made her remember how he'd looked standing there in the downpour, so confused and alone. She knew he was thinking about that day too, and could feel something teasing just at the edge of his memory, like a cobweb brushing against skin, unseen but felt all the same.

"Oh no, I'm afraid I did," she said. "I didn't even think to bring it."

"Well, stay here until it passes," Jacob suggested with a smile. "It'd be a shame if that pretty dress got ruined."

Queenie got a flash of what he was really thinking, and smiled back, blushing a little. He wasn't worried about the condition of her dress, although he _did_ think it was pretty. It was white, with little blue polka dots, and he was envisioning what happened to white dresses in the rain... Queenie was used to that sort of response from men, but somehow when it came from Jacob, there was something sweet about it. He never made her feel like a piece of meat - the undeniable fact that he thought she was attractive was always tempered with kindness, not cruelty. "I guess you're right," she said. "I'll wait for it to clear up."

"Here," Jacob said, ducking behind the counter for a moment and coming up with a piece of cherry pie. He retrieved a stool for her as well, and pulled it up to the end of the counter. "It's on the house. The rainy day special."

The shop was quieter in the rain. There were still a few brave customers hurrying in to get their sugar fix, but definitely not the usual crowds she had come to expect. Jacob didn't hover near her constantly, but he glanced in her direction occasionally and smiled each time. Queenie could tell he wanted to talk to her - and to be fair, she wanted to talk to him too - but he was reluctant to bother her, and she was wary of getting in any deeper than she already was. During a quiet moment when they were the only two in the shop, he picked up a slightly damp newspaper that a customer had left behind and leafed through it casually. Queenie nibbled at the pie. Even though it was delicious, she was trying to make it last.

"Hey, look at that," Jacob said, and came over to show her a page from the paper. "There's a baking contest, and the top prize is a thousand bucks!"

"You should enter it!" Queenie said at once. "You'd win for sure, you're the best baker around."

"Aw, well, thanks," Jacob said, blushing. "That's sweet of you to say. But I'd have to take a day off from the shop to go out to Coney Island, and I couldn't do it all by myself. Lugging a bunch of pastries on the subway is just asking for trouble."

Queenie's eyes widened. She knew he was angling to ask her to help, but didn't want to come right out and say so. She also knew what a bad idea it would be to make the offer. "Couldn't one of your assistants go with you?" she asked instead.

"Ah, they'd have a hard enough time keeping the bakery running for a day without me," he said with a chuckle. "I guess it's not meant to be." The bell on the door jingled as another customer came in, and Jacob folded the paper, leaving it on the counter near Queenie as he went to take the man's order.

The contest ad stared up at her, and there in black and white, down near the bottom of the page, she saw something that shocked her. "Featuring last year's winner, Miss Mamie Snook!" 

Mamie Snook, Queenie knew perfectly well, was a witch - she'd been a year ahead of Tina at Ilvermorny, one of a clique of mean girls who'd sometimes picked on her sister. She'd been petty and bossy and snobbish, and had always peeked at other people's exams instead of studying. If she was winning awards for baking, Queenie guessed it wasn't on her own merits. And while she didn't _think_ there was a law against witches and wizards using magic to win No-Maj baking contests, as long as they didn't interact too much with the No-Majes while they did it, it seemed like the sort of thing that shouldn't be allowed to stand unchallenged - especially not when the best No-Maj baker in New York might be able to give her a run for the money, with just a little bit of assistance.

"I'll help you," Queenie blurted out when Jacob's customer had left.

Jacob looked startled. "You'll what?" 

"Help you with the baking contest - with getting all your things out there and set up and all of that. If you still want to do it, that is," she added, even though she knew perfectly well that he did.

"Well, sure, that'd be great," he said, beaming. "I'd really like that. Maybe you could help taste-test, too - come by in the evening after we close, say. I have a bunch of ideas that might be interesting to try out. But I've gotta trust you to be honest with me, okay?"

"Sure thing," Queenie told him with a smile, even as her heart sank. She felt lower than a Flobberworm as she left the shop. 

***

"I don't think it's a good idea," Tina said that evening over dinner, after Queenie had told her of the contest, and her offer to help Jacob enter it. "If it isn't ethical for Mamie Snook to win the contest with her magic, it isn't any better for you to help Jacob with yours."

"I'm not going to help him with magic!" Queenie protested. "Just with carrying things, and telling him what tastes good and what doesn't."

Tina gave her a skeptical look that said she knew her little sister better than that. "And through all this process, you're not going to give any of his creations a little tweak here or a little boost there?"

Queenie shook her head, looking innocent. "He doesn't need it," she said earnestly. "He's the best all on his own."

Tina sighed, shaking her head. "You've really got it bad for this guy, honey. I'm worried about you. I don't want your heart to get broken again."

Queenie didn't tell her sister that her heart was still broken, so it couldn't possibly get broken again. Instead she smiled and said, "I'll be okay. I just have to keep him from getting too attached."

"Good luck with that," Tina said dryly.

***

Queenie started going to the bakery in the evenings, after it had closed to customers, so that Jacob could work on his entry for the contest. She would watch him work, marvelling at how much harder it was to bake when you weren't using magic. Then, of course, she would get to sample the results of his labors. Delicate lemon tarts with shortbread crust, flaky peach turnovers topped with large crystals of sugar, rich, bittersweet poppy seed rolls, fat doughnuts filled almost to bursting with creamy custard... Each one was delicious in its own way, and she couldn't imagine how she was going to tell him which was the best. 

"What you need," she told him one evening as he tidied up, "is something that'll really catch the judges' attention. These are all great, but they're not something completely new, you know?"

Jacob dusted his floury hands off on his apron, considering her suggestion. "Something that's never been done before, huh? That's a tall order."

"You make new things all the time!" Queenie pointed out. "Your little pastries shaped like magical creatures aren't something anyone else does." She regretted at once bringing up the subject, as it strayed too close to other topics she'd rather avoid. 

"They just come to me," he said with a puzzled shrug, and rubbed his neck absent-mindedly where the murtlap had bitten him. "I see them in my imagination, but..." He hesitated, looking at her cautiously. "You're gonna think I'm crazy."

"Try me," Queenie said.

"Sometimes," Jacob confided, leaning across the counter, "I don't think it's my imagination. It feels more real than that, like I really saw them somewhere before." He shook his head as if to clear it. "I know that sounds like I'm going nuts."

Queenie shook her head, but then her eyes brightened. "Nuts!" she exclaimed.

"You really think so?" Jacob asked, his face falling.

"No, not you! The contest. Nothing says Coney Island like roasted peanuts. Well, maybe hot dogs, but I don't think you should try putting those in your desserts..."

Jacob nodded, pensive. "Roasted peanuts, huh? That could work. Maybe I could make a chocolate eclair, fill it with caramel custard, and top the whole thing with honey roasted peanuts... Hmm, maybe even..." He was already mentally ticking off the ingredients he'd need, Queenie could tell, and she smiled. Not only had she given him a good idea, but she'd gotten him off the subject of magical beasts and what he did or didn't remember about them, which was a relief.

"Tomorrow," Jacob promised, "I'll have it ready for you to try." He paused, looking nervous, and Queenie knew what he was about to say before he said it. "Maybe if you wanted, we could get dinner beforehand? I know this great little Italian place just a couple blocks away..."

Queenie had a whole list of excuses ready to use. She knew this was exactly what Tina had been warning her about, and she had no wish to hurt Jacob's feelings by letting him get his hopes up and then disappearing again after the contest was over. But maybe, she thought, she could go to dinner with him just this once... "Okay," she said, before she could talk herself out of it.

The smile on Jacob's face was dazzling. "Really? Oh, wow, okay! Should I pick you up at your place?" 

"I'll meet you here," Queenie said hastily. It would just be easier if Tina didn't know - and if Jacob wasn't exposed to any more sights that might jog his memory further. "Is six o'clock all right?"

"It's perfect," Jacob said, still beaming. "Queenie, you're not gonna regret it."

She smiled back, hoping he was right - for both their sakes.

***

The restaurant was just a little hole in the wall, nothing fancy, but the proprietor, obviously impressed that Jacob was there was a lady friend, pulled out all the stops, even going so far as to provide a brief serenade to accompany their meal. Queenie tried to relax and enjoy the evening, but she couldn't help second-guessing her decision. Still, Jacob was so sweet and funny that she found herself laughing along with him as they slurped spaghetti and meatballs. She wished it could always be like this - not worrying whether someone would see them together, or whether she could be with someone she would have to spend her entire life lying to. 

She found herself trying to imagine what it would be like to live without magic, in order to keep Jacob. It was an impossible choice. Queenie's Legilimency was as natural to her as breathing. She couldn't possibly give it up. But she had never met anyone who made her feel as comfortable as Jacob did, or who treated her as kindly. Most men thought she was pretty, but they weren't interested in finding out what she thought about... well, _anything_ other than them. Having too much insight into what people thought about her had kept Queenie from ever dating anyone for very long. Tina used to joke that she needed to find an Occlumens to go out with, to keep some mystery in the relationship. But it wasn't mystery that Queenie wanted. She just wanted to peek into a fellow's mind and see something other than a desire to take her to bed - at least once in a while! 

Jacob wanted that too, of course. She would have been a little surprised if he hadn't, given that he'd asked her out and all. But he had room in his mind for other things as well. Like running his business, and his love of baking, and a curiosity about Queenie that went beyond wondering what she'd look like naked. It was refreshing. And it was that comfort, and the curiosity of her own that she felt when she was with him, that made her nervous.

After dinner - they skipped dessert, knowing they were going to head back to the bakery after - they emerged from the restaurant to find that it had started to drizzle. The restaurant's owner, solicitous as ever, offered to lend them an umbrella, and Jacob promised to return it the following day. They walked back to the bakery, huddled together under the umbrella's shelter, close enough that Queenie could smell his aftershave. She felt her heart beating faster, and was so distracted that she didn't see the kiss coming. They paused under a shop's awning and before she knew what was happening, they were kissing one another. She wasn't sure who had started it - maybe they had both turned at the same time. But it felt so good that she had to use every ounce of willpower to pull herself away.

"I'm sorry," Jacob told her, even as she said, "We can't do this."

There was a pause while they stood there gazing at one another, Queenie biting her lip and Jacob blushing. "Why not?" he asked at last. 

Queenie struggled to find the right words. "We come from two different worlds..."

"Is it because you're Jewish and I'm Catholic?" Jacob asked, gently taking her hand with his free one. "I mean, I don't know how your family would feel about it, but I promise that doesn't make any difference to me...."

"Oh, it's not that!" Queenie exclaimed, trying not to cry. "You just have to believe me when I say it wouldn't work out."

"Why not?" he asked. "I really like you, Queenie, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes...."

"You don't understand," she sniffled. "I like you too... and it's because I like you that I don't want you to get hurt."

Jacob looked puzzled, and then his eyes widened. "Are you caught up with the mob?" he whispered. He looked around warily, as though a hit man might jump out from the alley at any moment and gun him down for standing there talking to her. 

Queenie was about to tell him he watched too many movies, but really he wasn't too far off in his guess. The wizarding world was an organization unto itself, with its own rules and traditions and a heavy veil of secrecy, and it didn't take kindly to outsiders finding out too much about its existence or inner workings. They used wands instead of tommy guns, but otherwise there were some definite similarities. "Something like that," she said vaguely. "I can't explain any more, but if it helps you to think of it like that, I guess that works."

She could tell Jacob was still trying to figure it out. He was running through different awful options - an angry ex-boyfriend, an abusive family, and so on - and it hurt Queenie's heart to realize that his theories, while wrong, could just as easily fit their situation. As much as she yearned to be with him, it would only result in more pain and trouble for both of them. "I need to go," she told him, breaking away and heading off by herself in the rain.

"But I was going to make you dessert," Jacob said sadly to her retreating back. Droplets splashed off the awning and into puddles below as he watched her leave.

***

Queenie didn't go to the bakery the following day. Instead she went straight home after work and holed up in her bedroom. Tina knew something was wrong, of course, but went about making dinner and left her sister alone until she was ready to talk about it. That was how things had been between them since they were kids - for all her talent at reading other people's thoughts and feelings, Queenie preferred to keep hers to herself until she had a chance to mull them over. Trying to pry them out of her before that point was like pulling teeth. She and Tina were both stubborn that way.

She emerged for dinner, looking puffy-eyed and with her blonde curls in disarray. "Thank you for making dinner," she said to Tina, her voice hoarse and quiet. 

"You're welcome," Tina replied, sitting down across from her sister. "Are you going over to the bakery tonight?" she asked casually.

"I'm not sure if I should," Queenie said glumly. "It seems like I can't be around him without it bringing up all sorts of feelings that it shouldn't. He's a No-Maj, and I'm never going to be able to be with him the way I'd really like to be. I thought maybe I could spend time with him just as friends, but I can't."

Tina nodded, but resisted the urge to tell Queenie that she'd told her so. Instead she said, "You know, in some places wizards and No-Majes can get married, and it doesn't seem to bother anyone."

Queenie looked up. "You mean in England, right?" She knew that Tina had been doing quite a bit of reading and research on the wizarding community there, for reasons that Queenie understood perfectly well, but which her sister hadn't been ready to talk about yet. 

"Yes," said Tina. "I don't quite know how they make it work, though. Do the witches and wizards explain things to their spouses, or not? If Mr. Scamander was still here, we could ask him," she said with the barest hint of a sigh.

"Why don't you write to him and ask?" Queenie suggested innocently.

"I suppose I could," Tina agreed, but narrowed her eyes at her sister's 'helpful' suggestion. Queenie had been encouraging her to keep in touch with Newt Scamander ever since the magizoologist had left New York, and her motives were definitely anything but innocent. "I have a letter half-started to him anyway," she added, and heaved a sigh as Queenie grinned, looking more cheerful than she had in days. "It's just a friendly letter!" she protested. "Nothing more. But I could ask about how those kinds of relationships work over there."

"Maybe we could move," Queenie said, not incredibly optimistically. "But I could never ask Jacob to give up his shop, not when he's worked so hard to get it off the ground."

"Well, even if you can't move, maybe things can change here. Rappaport's Law was enacted in a very different time. Someone has to be the first to push back, after all. Maybe that's you and Jacob." 

Queenie bit her lip, thoughtful. "Tina, you're an Auror - you know how much trouble I could get in. Even being friends with a No-Maj isn't really kosher."

"I'm not going to turn you in, if that's what you're worried about," Tina told her sister, reaching across the table to give her hand a squeeze. "I just want you to be happy."

"I know. But I could be getting _you_ into trouble by spending time with him too. If they found out that you knew about us and hadn't told anyone... I can't put your job at risk. You've worked too hard to get it back." Queenie shook her head, her golden curls bobbing. "I'll go see him one more time, for the baking contest, because I promised to help and it wouldn't be fair to him to back out now. And after it's done I'll tell him it's over and never see him again." She sighed sadly. "At least I'll get to know whether he wins or not."

***

The baking contest was to be held on a Saturday. Queenie gathered up her courage and went back to Kowalski's Quality Baked Goods early in the morning, practically at the crack of dawn. She knocked on the door, since the shop wasn't open yet. Jacob appeared from the back of the shop, his apron dusted with flour, and hastily unlocked the door to let her in. "Queenie!" he exclaimed, "I didn't expect you."

"I keep my promises," she said with a smile that only wavered slightly.

"I'm glad to see you, but I don't have things ready for the contest," he admitted, crestfallen. "After you took off the other night, I figured the whole thing was a flop." Queenie sensed that even the thought of the contest had reminded him of her, and it had been too painful to contemplate participating anyway. 

"It's not too late," she told him. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

 _Never leave again_. The thought flashed across his mind as clear as day. Instead, he said, "You could go find me some roasted peanuts."

"I'm on the case - I'll be back in a jiffy!" Queenie rushed out the door, as Jacob disappeared back into the kitchen of his shop. She realized only when she was halfway down the block that she had no idea where to get roasted peanuts at this hour. She didn't frequent No-Maj shops, but she was fairly sure they weren't open this early in the day. There might be vendors with their carts just getting ready for the day in Central Park or near Grand Central Station, but to go all that way and back would surely take too long. But she couldn't disappoint Jacob again. She knew she had promised Tina that he wouldn't use magic to help him win the contest, but surely this one little thing couldn't hurt...

Queenie had never been very good at Summoning charms. She'd always struggled with them at school, accidentally summoning pins instead of pens once because her teacher's accent had confused her. But without any other options springing to mind, she ducked into an alley and concentrated as hard as she could on visualizing a bag of warm, salty, roasted peanuts. Once she felt like she had the image solidly fixed in her mind, she took out her wand and gave it a quick flourish. "Accio roasted peanuts!" 

For a moment she worried that perhaps it hadn't worked. Then she felt that faint pulling sensation, like she was holding the other end of a rope that someone had just tugged taut, and the bag of peanuts swooshed into her hand. She breathed a sigh of relief, glanced around to make sure she hadn't been seen, and then walked around the block once before heading back to the bakery.

"I got them!" she called out. 

Jacob poked his head out from the door to the kitchen. "Wow, that was fast," he said in amazement. "How'd you manage...?"

"No time for that now," Queenie said hastily. "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

Jacob brought her back into the kitchen, and put her to work. Queenie wasn't used to preparing food without the use of magic, and it was amazing how hard it was, even with Jacob there to give her advice. Soon her arms ached from stirring batter and grinding the peanuts into smaller pieces - she couldn't imagine how Jacob stirred and kneaded all day long. While she worked, he was busy crafting some kind of intricate lattice structure out of toffee, while also running back and forth to the stove to whip up a batch of custard, and melting pieces of chocolate into creamy smoothness, and probably doing other things she couldn't even keep track of. He was working a kind of magic, she truly believed - a magic of ordinary things, of heat and muscle and the blending of opposites like flour and water into one beautiful, unified whole. It was glorious to watch, and she realized that what she felt for him wasn't simply infatuation, but something deeper.

Once the pastries were carefully piped into the shapes he wanted and placed in the oven, Jacob and Queenie took a few seconds to breathe, and then he began casting about for appropriate containers to transport everything on the subway to Coney Island. "I'll have to fill them with the custard there, or else they'll get soggy," he said. "And of course I can't attach the wings yet."

"Wings?" Queenie asked, curious what he had in mind.

"You'll see," he told her with a wink that made her heart flutter. 

Finally, once the eclairs were out of the oven and cooling, they managed to gather things together, using one of the decorative cake boxes Jacob had on hand for special events, and a bowl covered in wax paper for the custard filling. He allowed the delicate pastries to cool just long enough that he could apply the chocolate topping without it simply melting off, and then sprinkled the ground peanuts over everything so they stuck to the chocolate while it was still warm. With Queenie carrying the box of pastries and Jacob carrying the bowl of creamy custard, as well as a few other items he needed, they left the shop (Jacob calling out to his harried assistant that he'd be back later) and made their way to the nearest subway stop.

The trip was full of accidents waiting to happen. People bumping into them, or the train suddenly jerking to a stop, could have crushed the fragile pastries, or sent them spilling to the ground. Queenie wished she could just Apparate to their destination, but of course she couldn't, not with Jacob. But she did perform one tiny charm, hoping no one would notice, to keep their precious cargo cool so it didn't melt in the heat of the underground tunnels.

"I don't know how I could've done this without you," Jacob said to her when they finally arrived, and were walking along the boardwalk towards the exhibition hall where the contest was being held. The crowds were thick, and they had to weave their way through them carefully, holding their containers full of goodies close to their chests to keep them from being jostled or squished. Queenie breathed a sigh of relief when they finally reached their destination, hoping nothing could go wrong from here.

There were already many contestants inside, with their efforts divided into categories - pies, cakes, cookies, and pastries. From each category a winner would be chosen, who would receive a small prize, and then the winners of each division would compete for the thousand dollar grand prize. As Jacob filled out his entry form and was assigned to a small table in the pastry section, Queenie scanned the room, taking in all the sights and smells. She spotted the familiar figure of Mamie Snook, smirking as she usually did, near an ornate chocolate cake decorated with spun-sugar flowers. Queenie thought the flowers had the unfortunate effect of making the brown chocolate look like dirt, but then, she wasn't the one judging the contest.

Jacob found his spot and started to work on assembling his creation, piping the custard filling into the pastries. It was only when he attached the delicate structure of the 'wings' and 'beak' he had created from fine threads of toffee that she realized what he'd made - an eclair replica of Frank the Thunderbird, with nuts serving in place of his coat of feathers. At last when they were complete, Jacob stepped back, wiping his brow. "There," he said. "It'll have to do."

"They're perfect," Queenie told him sincerely. "If the judges don't recognize that, well, they must be idiots."

Jacob smiled. "As long as you like it, that's what matters most to me." He reached out as if to take her hand, but Queenie suddenly felt a funny tingle that spoke of magic being used somewhere nearby and frowned. Jacob took what he thought was the hint and lowered his hand, returning his attention to his display.

"I'll be right back," Queenie told him. She peered around the large, crowded room, sure that someone here had just cast a spell. Since as far as she knew there was only one other wizard here, she gravitated automatically towards Mamie Snook's table. She tried to keep off to the side, halfway behind a column so she wouldn't be spotted by her former schoolmate, and watched as Mamie fiddled with her cake's stand, adjusting it so that its best side was facing the front. The judges, Queenie could see, were already beginning to circulate around the room, clipboards in hand, although they were still safely over in the pie section. She couldn't imagine how they were going to taste every single item in the hall today - there had to be at least two hundred contestants, maybe more. 

Drawing her attention back to the matter at hand, she tried to guess what Mamie might have been using magic for - something to enhance the flavor of her chocolate monstrosity, maybe, or to perk up the gaudy but delicate sugar flowers if they were starting to melt in the warmth of the crowded room? She couldn't see any sign of obvious tampering, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. But although she felt that faint tingling sensation of magic being used several more times, Mamie didn't visibly cast any further spells while Queenie was watching her. Either she'd become adept at wandless magic, or it wasn't her who was casting the spells. Eventually Queenie decided that lingering here was pointless and made her way back to Jacob's station.

"I'm sorry if I was too presumptuous," he began, evidently thinking he'd been responsible for driving Queenie away. "I know what you said before, about us, and I didn't mean..."

"No, no, it wasn't that," she said hastily, waving one distracted hand. "I thought I saw someone I knew, that was all." The judges were drawing closer, and Queenie could tell Jacob was nervous. "It'll be fine," she assured him, and reached out to give his hand a little squeeze.

Jacob smiled. "Even if I don't win, this was definitely worth it to get to spend time with you, Queenie."

At last the trio of judges stood before the table with its display of eclairs. One of them, a stout, red-haired woman, peered at it closely. "What iz zis?" she inquired with a thick French accent.

Queenie kept to the back and let Jacob answer. "I call it a Thunderbird eclair," he said, clearing his throat nervously. Queenie blinked a little at that - did he remember more than she'd picked up on? But then she grew distracted by reading the thoughts coming from the judges. One was wishing he'd worn suspenders instead of a belt, another was looking at her and trying not to be too obvious about it. Those she could safely ignore. But the woman with the red hair was, she realized, peering at Jacob suspiciously and wondering what in the world he thought he was doing here. 

Feeling profoundly protective of him, Queenie tried to do what she could to shield him from the woman's scrutiny. Stepping up and taking his arm, she grinned at the group of judges, dazzling them with her smile, and at the same time trying to throw up as much of a mental shield as she could. "He just gets these crazy ideas - nuts on an eclair, right?" she said brightly. "But I always say the most important thing is how it tastes!" She did her best to draw their attention to her, even though she knew it was a risk. Even if she wasn't influencing them with magic, she wasn't ignorant of the effect she could have on people. 

The judges each took one of the eclairs. The red-haired woman nibbled delicately at hers, and her eyes widened. "Zis is quite magnifique," she said, clearly not having been expecting that something she had taken as merely a ridiculous novelty pastry would also taste so good. Queenie realized with relief that she had stopped frowning at Jacob, being distracted by the delicacy. The other judges, too, were absorbed in the taste test, although still a little distracted by Queenie. 

When the judges had completed their tasting and moved on to the next booth, Jacob let out a sigh of relief. "Do you think they liked it?" he asked Queenie.

Queenie didn't need to guess - she knew they had. "Definitely," she assured him with a smile. 

As the afternoon continued, Queenie kept sensing that little zing of someone using magic somewhere in the room, but couldn't pin down where it was coming from. No matter how closely she kept an eye on Mamie Snook, she didn't see her casting any spells. Whoever else it was, they were being very subtle about it. Either that, or she was just so on edge that she was imagining things...

At last, after what seemed like an interminable length of time, the judges took to the podium. Jacob bit his lip nervously, waiting for their announcement as they worked their way through various honorable mentions and runners-up. "In the pastry category, first prize goes to Mr. Jacob Kowalski!" 

Queenie couldn't help it - she shrieked with excitement and jumped up and down, clinging to Jacob's arm. He looked stunned, like he couldn't quite believe it. "I won?" he asked, barely audible over the audience's applause.

"You sure did!" Queenie hugged him enthusiastically, then realized what she was doing and took a step back, straightening her dress and trying to be more composed. "Congratulations, Jacob."

"Thanks, Queenie," he said, still dazed, and went up to accept his blue ribbon and have his picture taken by photographers from several newspapers with one of his prize-winning creations. Queenie couldn't help but think that after all this publicity, his shop would be even more popular than before. It made her happy, in a sort of wistful way, even if she wouldn't be going back there, to think that it would thrive - she knew how much it mattered to Jacob. Maybe he would be so busy that he wouldn't have a chance to miss her.

She was unsurprised when Mamie Snook took the top prize in the cake category. Even if she hadn't used magic here today, who was to say she hadn't used it to make the thing in the first place? Queenie didn't clap as she accepted her ribbon, smirking as usual and basking in the applause. The other winners also beamed as they were recognized for their achievements - a tiny old lady with frizzy white hair in the pie category, and a young girl, maybe sixteen, who hung back shyly and shuffled her feet when accepting her award for the best cookies.

Queenie wasn't sure how such different desserts could be compared in order to reach the final winner. She knew she wouldn't have been able to pick, if she hadn't been biased in favor of Jacob - they all looked delicious. But evidently the judges had some scoring system that was clear to them, if not to her. With the four winners waiting anxiously on the stage, the trio of judges conferred once more, examining their creations in order to reach their final conclusion.

Finally, the plump red-haired woman, who was introduced as Madame Lysia Beaulieu, stepped to the microphone. "Ze decision was a very difficult one," she said. "But we have finally arrived at our grand prize." Queenie wrung her hands, almost as nervous as Jacob was. She couldn't read the judges from this distance, and she was in the most terrible suspense. 

"Mr. Kowalski!" For a moment Queenie couldn't absorb what had just been said. It was the look of utter shock and disbelief on Mamie Snook's face that finally told her - Jacob had won. He looked bemused and more than a little shocked himself as he shook hands with all the judges and accepted his grand prize. A thousand dollars - Queenie could hardly imagine what he could do with that much money. Maybe he could move into a nicer apartment, buy some new fancy electrical gadgets for the bakery... She smiled to imagine how he might spend some on a new suit and hat for himself, or even take a much-needed vacation.

She made her way through the crowd once it started to disperse. Jacob was still swarmed with reporters, but she waited at the edge of the stage until he could finally break away. "Queenie," he said, pulling her up onto the stage with him, "I can't believe it."

"You won," she told him, smiling, hiding the pain she felt because she knew this was the last she would see of him. She tried to memorize his face just like this - overjoyed, flushed, a little dazed. "I knew you could do it."

"I can't repay you enough," he told her, squeezing her hands. "I should give you half this money - you sure deserve it."

Queenie shook her head, curls bobbing. "No, you keep it. I'm just so happy for you - that's enough of a prize for me." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Jacob blushed further, putting his hand up to touch the spot where her lips had brushed against his skin. Before they could say more, though, he was drawn away again for another round of photos, and Queenie found herself once again alone.

"You love him." 

The woman's voice, with its distinctive French accent, startled her. Queenie whirled around to face Madame Beaulieu, who seemed less stern now that she wasn't judging desserts, and in fact was smiling slightly.

"We're just friends," she tried to say, but the older woman shook her head.

"Non, I should hope I know love when I see it. But you cannot be together, yes? Because of your... what is it, Rappaport's Law?" 

Queenie blinked, startled. "I don't know what you mean," she said cautiously. 

"We do not have such a backwards view of zese things in Canada, I can assure you," the woman continued as if she hadn't spoken.

Leaning in closer, Queenie picked up a stray glimpse of a thought - this woman was very well-shielded, but she was a witch! "It was you!" she gasped. "I thought I could feel someone casting spells all day!"

"Well, it is not so easy to eat a hundred desserts," Madame Beaulieu smiled, rubbing her belly. "A little charm to keep from getting sick to my stomach is all it takes." She patted Queenie on the arm. "Now, if you do want to be with your lovely gentleman, you would only need to travel a little way to ze north... We have some very good bakeries in Montreal that I'm sure would hire him in a heartbeat."

"I could never ask him to give up his shop," she said, her momentary surge of hope sinking into reality once more. "He's worked so hard for it, and it's everything he ever wanted."

"Not everything," said the other woman. "I can see ze way he looks at you."

Queenie glanced over, and saw that Jacob was indeed gazing in her direction. "I... I don't know..."

"Eh bien, it is your decision, after all. But you do have a choice other than to leave him. Consider it well." Madame Beaulieu smiled and walked away, leaving Queenie stunned and more than a little intrigued.

Jacob walked back over to her, escaping from the last few well-wishers. "I guess we oughta be getting home," he said. "It'll be dark by the time we get back to the city. I could walk you to your place - if you'd like."

Queenie thought about it for a moment. "If you do," she said slowly, "there are some things I have to tell you..."

"Is it about the... the magic stuff?" he asked. "Because it's sorta coming back to me."

She shouldn't have been surprised by that, but she was. She'd been so sure he didn't remember anything beyond some vague ideas that he could chalk up to his imagination. She wondered for a moment if the spell would fade for other people too, or whether perhaps Madame Beaulieu had meddled with his memories even though she'd claimed the decision was up to Queenie. "Yes," she said at last, realizing he was staring at her. "And about why it's... it's complicated for me to be with you, even though I really, really want to."

"You want to?" He looked, if possible, even more delighted than when he'd found out he won the contest. "Queenie, if it means being with you, I don't care how complicated it is - we'll find a way."

She nodded, taking his hand in hers and pulling him into her arms. "How do you feel about Canada?"

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [naryrising](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/naryrising) if you want to ask questions, make requests, or chat!


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